What Do You Call Regret If You'd Do It Again?
by dannams
Summary: Steve wants to regret it, he wishes he could, but the feeling never comes. Even when he sees them together, all feels is jealousy and need. On those nights he holds Tony just a little tighter at night, it's not much, but it's all he can have.
1. Chapter 1

"We're gonna be ok," Steve promises aloud, only managing to speak those words after repeating them several times in his head. He hoped the practice would allow him the strength to sound confident, but he didn't account for the forming pool of blood in his mouth which muffles his words and probably weakens his point.

He tips his head back to rest against the wall, grits his teeth, and swallows it down. Their cell is already splattered with their blood, and since they have no idea how long they'll be here until they're rescued, there's no need to make this place more disgusting than it already is.

When he gets no reply, he hazards a worried look down at the engineer lying curled up beside him. Steve taps lightly at Tony's temple to wake him up, careful of the forming bruises that colour his face.

"You can't sleep, you might have a concussion," he warns, softening his voice in sympathy.

Tony may have proven himself to be strong, way stronger than Steve had thought when they first met over two year ago, but he is still only human. And although Steve has managed to take the brunt of the torture in the two day that they've been held captive, he wasn't able shield his team mate from everything.

"'M not sleeping, jus' restin' my eyes," Tony mumbles back as his tired eyes finally flutter open.

If it wasn't for the near excruciating pain that accompanies every movement, Steve might have momentarily forgotten where they were. Just by looking into the comforting familiarity of those clear brown eyes, he's transported to the lumpy couch at his apartment watching some awful television show that, _'yes Capcicle, is completely relevant to learning the modern world, stop questioning my genius!'_, or in Tony's lab at SHIELD having a heated debate over the merits of Star Wars over Star Trek as Bruce tries his best to ignore them.

But, unfortunately, the illusion doesn't last long because he does feel the pain. He also tastes his own blood, smells the moldy odors of their damp cement prison, and sees the ugly purple bruises on Tony's face that leak blood onto his once impeccable SHIELD jumpsuit.

Steve is unfortunately, painfully aware of their situation. So much so that even trying to comprehend the amount of danger that he's placed Tony in makes his chest feel tight and his breathing pick up. He's not the least bit afraid for himself, he can take a lot, but Tony, even without the arc reactor -a beacon of both his strength and weakness- buried in his chest, is still too breakable.

"Fuck, Steve breathe. You're Captain America not Aquaman." Tony's words cut through his thoughts, voice taking on a slightly hysterical edge as he sits up and places his hands on Steve's shoulder. "You need to calm down 'cause it's really not convincing if you tell me everything'll be fine then freak out. Not that I believed you anyway. It's not like anything in my life has made me trust that things would work out. I mean c'mon, I quit being a superhero just in time get kidnapped and tortured again. Like what the fuck universe-"

Steve can't help the weak chuckle that escapes; it always does when Tony's mouth goes off.

"You babble when you're nervous."

"Then stop making me nervous and I'll shut up."

"No you wouldn't."

Tony narrows his eyes at Steve in a playful glare. "Fine I'll give you that," he finally concedes.

Since Tony dropped the Iron Man persona he has been -grudgingly- spending a lot more time at SHIELD, building, repairing, and, since their chance meeting in the break room, acting as Steve's guide to the twenty first century.

It was an unexpected surprise, but a good one. It gave Steve something to do, a real friend to talk to.

"Maybe you know me too well Rogers," Tony muses wrinkling his nose as he leans back, wincing when his abused back touches the cold, hard wall.

"I don't know you well enough."

That earns him a smile; big and genuine.

They both know that isn't true. Although he doesn't know everything, and he probably never will learn every detail about the complicated genius, he knows Tony more than he knows anyone else in this century, and Tony knows him.

Steve even has the privilege of handing him things, though he's yet to earn the right to know exactly why it's considered a privilege in the first place.

All of theses aspects of their friendship are usually a source of happiness for Steve, but at the moment it only makes him feel worse about the fact that their current state is entirely his own fault. Tony is just a consultant, and this was supposed to be another simple surveillance setup mission with the genius tagging along to help with the tech. However, the enemy was somehow tipped off about their plan and ambushed them.

They only ended up here because Steve wasn't able to protect them. He's never able to protect those he loves.

"I'm sorry," Steve admits at length, slumping with a heavy breath into his seat at the corner of the cell.

"Wait… did you turn to the dark side then get your goons to torture us just to ask for information on SHIELD you already have?" Tony asks pressing his hand -the one not holding his ribs together- over his heart with a dramatic gasp. "You evil genius! And here I thought you were just a big ol' American sweetheart. Damn me and my terrible ability to judge character."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Oh trust me, I do, but I am the unofficial king of misplaced guilt, so stop trying to take my crown. If you must have one though, you can rule beside me as my queen."

When they first met that comment would probably have been misconstrued as an insult and then escalated into a shouting match, but when Tony turns to him with a huge grin, Steve lets any possible objection die on his tongue. Even with the splits in his lips and the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, Steve still finds that smile the most beautiful, disarming thing he's ever seen.

In a moment of weakness -or overwhelming strength- Steve leans in and presses his lips to that wonderful smile.

As soon as they touch, he regrets it. Tony stiffens, and though Steve's eyes are closed, he can just imagine the look of shock on the other man's face.

Tony has Pepper. Tony wouldn't give her up just for him. He's happy, and definitely doesn't need him ruining everything with his stupid crush.

Steve curses himself silently then tried to to gather the the talent from his performing days to pretend he's sorry. "Oh my God! I-Tony, I am so, so sorry I don't know what came over me!" He stammers awkwardly, attempting to slide away from the shocked genius only to be met with the resistance of the thick walls.

It's a lie of course, he knows exactly what came over him; deep burning desire, pent up and denied for months.

He's been thinking a lot about his friend lately. Some of those thoughts are chaste -holding hands, kissing, early morning conversations in bed- most though, are not. Most thoughts are about doing things that he's never even thought about with women, things he feels terrible for wanting.

He knows Pepper, he might even call her a friend since they've gone to a few gallery event together, but he can't even think of her with Tony, because every time he does it makes him sick.

He so badly wants what she has that it has gotten to the point where just looking at her causes his brain draw forth memories of dreams he's had about touching Tony. Images of having his large hands surround the smaller man's cock, teasing -just like he does for himself-, stroking...tasting. Steve always imagines that Tony would like to talk; praising Steve for how tight he is, how good it feels to be inside of him, calling him all of those filthy names that Steve is too ashamed to admit that he likes, then holding him afterwards, whispering declarations of love into his ear.

Most of all though, he wants Tony to want all of these things.

But Tony doesn't want that. And now Steve has just kissed him, and there is no way he can play it off as though it were just another one of the many lingering touches he's allowed himself in the past under the guise of friendliness.

For a long moment, silence covers them like a stifling blanket in the dark musty cell until Tony cuts through it with an inexplicable burst of laughter.

"This is what it took!? I've been trying to not-so-subtly ask about your sexuality for months now, and getting kidnapped is what gets you to fess up?!"

Tony lurches forward and swallows Steve's reply between his chapped lips.

The kiss is rough, and dry, and every shift of his muscles reminds Steve of his injuries, but it is well worth it.

It's nothing like the ones he'd fantasized about. Those are always just fuzzy guesses in the dark as to what it could feel like to have Tony touch him, want him, and they always lead to rough, lonely tugs of his own hardened cock, then long scalding showers to wash away the shame and guilt.

This...this is sharper, and so much more real.

But is real better?

It can't be. Steve isn't one of those people who ruins someone's life by selfishly taking away the person they love in favour of his own happiness. He can't be.

The image of Pepper's hurt expression suddenly springs to mind, goading him to push Tony away. Tony has other ideas.

The brunet fluidly slides his hand up Steve thigh into his lap and squeezes lightly at the rock hard bulge. Steve moans obscenely into Tony's accenting mouth and the image of Pepper disappears as fast as it appeared.

The kiss continues, long and slow, tongues easing their way naturally into play, deepening it in a way that Steve had never thought possible, as Tony continues to grope him through his SHIELD uniform.

It feels right.

Suddenly the door is thrown open revealing Clint in full Hawkeye garb, arrow -no doubt- pointed with deadly accuracy. The archer's face shifts from professional deadliness to shocked, followed blatant confusion.

Steve pulls away and jumps up, ignoring the painful protest from his body, and scrambles as far away from Tony as possible. The pain is really just background noise compared to the battle in his head as he tries to fight the urge to either panic and run away, or sit back down and pull Tony into his arms.

However, Steve's shame is a sharp stab in his mind, so it's easy guess which desire wins out.

Clint's relaxes his stance and reaches up to touch the piece in his ear. "I got 'em guys. But I'm thinking we should give them a decontamination shower before we bring them back to base, they might have been hit with some sex pollen," he informs the other members of the team, throwing a wink at Steve.

The Super Soldier's eyes go wide and his blush probably shines through the layers of blood and dirt covering his face.

Clint doesn't seem angry or really bother at all, but what about the rest of the team, or Pepper.

Tony groans dramatically from his spot on the ground behind Steve. "For fucks sake Barton my organs are leaking from my sides! Just lead me to the gad damn medics, and by that I mean Bruce and only Bruce."

Clint sighs and motions for Tony to follow as he and walks out of the room, leaving the two alone in silence. Steve doesn't even notice him go over the noise in his own head. He's a homewrecker, and now the whole team knows. The damage is already done.

He does hear when Tony pull himself up from the dirty ground with a groan and drag his feet across the room to him. Hyper aware of the geniuses' movements, Steve's muscles tense painfully when he feels a hand on his lower back and a hot breath blow across his neck.

"We'll have to pick this up later," Tony whispers close to Steve's ear, pressing a quick kiss to his throat before limping out.

Steve doesn't follow, or offer to help him. He just stands in the cell he's shared with his best friend for the last two days, staring blankly straight ahead, watching as agents pass by.

Some of them ask him things, but he doesn't listen or answer; his thoughts too filled regret to really do anything.

Eventually he realizes that he can't stay in this cell forever. So when another agent offers him a ride, he takes it, but not back to the SHIELD.


	2. Running

It was hard avoiding Tony. Steve didn't even realize just how much time they spent together until they stopped.

The more time he spent alone the more he realised that he was always either texting Tony, or already in. Sometimes they would even text while in the same room, despite everyone's annoyance.

Their Monday interaction was usually nothing more than a few text and phone conversations since they were both busy. Tuesdays were pizza nights at Steve's 'vintage' apartment. Wednesdays -hump day, as Tony called it- were for catching up on the many tv shows that Steve missed during his stint on ice. Thursdays were always movie night with the team -and a few uncomfortable times with Pepper- at the tower. Lastly, Friday evenings through to Sunday was always reserved for 'alone time', which was all but mandated by the team. They texted each other anyway.

They usually never went to the tower other than on movie night. Tony kept pushing for Steve to move in with the team, but he kept refusing. Being with the man you love all the time and not being able to act on those feelings was one thing, but living with him and his girlfriend was another.

Now Steve kinda wished he had visited more, because his apartment holds too many traces and memories of the geniuses' presences. Although, he has to admit that it probably would have been worse if they'd lived just a few floors apart.

When Steve came home from the Hydra prison he tried hiding at his apartment. He figured that all he need was some time away from Tony to get over his feelings, but being home was just a constant reminder of everything he was trying to forget, and his hiding only lasted twelve hours before he packed a bag and ran.

He wasn't proud of it, but that's what he did.

Even after the time he spent resting at his apartment his injuries were still very much present, and although every time his bike hit a bump it hurt like hell he pushed through it because he just couldn't stay at home. Not if he wanted any hope of being left alone to sift through his thoughts.

Fury sent an agent over to check on him a few hours after he didn't show up for the for the debriefing who tried to convince him to let a medic check him over but he refused. It would be stupid to think that that would be their only attempt by S.H.I.E.L.D or the other member of the Avengers to 'help' him.

On his way out he had grabbed his phone, but that was a last minute decision. As much as he sometimes wished it wasn't true, he's not just Steve, he's also Captain and the world might need him. In which case he'd have to put aside all of his issues and save the world again.

The first text he receives is only minutes after he rides out of Brooklyn, and not surprisingly, is from Tony. It's not the first text he's received since their escape, he's actually been getting a steady stream of messages; none of which he's checked so far.

Steve decides to pulls over on the highway after the tenth time he feels his pocket vibrate denoting that he's received another call or text. He skims through them, starting from the first one he received a few hours after he had gotten home yesterday.

It simply reads: _'were u '_.

Steve smiles momentarily at that one before he schools his face back into a neutral expression. He just couldn't help it. When Tony had introduced him to texting he had made a point of using the worst possible grammar and punctuation possible; claiming that it was an important part of modern culture that Steve must be acquainted with, and since then it has become their own special language.

Steve usual response varies between,_ ' hom', ' th jim', _or_ ' sheild'_.

The first time he texted the latter Tony had called him in a fit of hysterical laughter, explaining that Steve had surpassed his teaching and truly learned 'the way of the text'. The next day he had received a cell phone shaped trophy with a plaque that read: 'lord of the text'. A reference which he actually understood for once since he read the first book back in his time and continued the Lord of the Rings series when he was still seeking familiarity. Steve still keeps it in on the table beside his bed.

The rest of the texts however, become progressively more serious.

_'steeeevie answer me'_

_'Steve c'mon'_

_'Seriously Steve you're worrying me'_

_'I swear to god, Steven Grant Roger (yeah, that's right, I'm playing the full name card) _

_'If you __don't answer me right now I'm sending Natasha after you'_

Then there are several more texts interspersed between missed calls and voicemails, but he forces himself to lock his phone and leave them unchecked.

Steve presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and tries to breathe through the rising tsunami of pain, both physical and mental. He knows just how Tony must be feeling because he frequently get the exact same way when Tony gets lost in work and forgets to call, text or show any other signs that he's alive for days on end.

He should call, just to tell him he's alright...right?

_No_, he reminds himself, he can't. 'One quick call' always turns into an hour long conversation that results in him giving Tony whatever he wants. He can't afford to give in this time.

So he sends a quick text to Agent Coulson saying that he's decided to take a vacation and that he'll be back in a few days. Then he quickly pockets the phone and drives off before he can imagine the look of hurt and betrayal that will no doubt be on Tony's face when Phil passes on the message.

Steve follows the same route he took after he drove off from giving his farewell to Thor -he didn't say goodbye to Loki- and the other Avengers. He continues to ride until the pain from his injured ribs threatens to knock him off his bike, then he rides a little further.

When he makes his second stop it's at a motel where he pays in cash and stays at a room close to the parking lot. There's really no doubt whether or not Tony could find him, of course he could, he's Tony Stark, but Steve doesn't want to make it easy for him to catch him if he does.

He does however continue to read the text.

_'C'mon Steve, talk to me! SHIELD's hospital smell like death and I'm bored!'_

_'This is a load of crap! You give me shit when I don't go to medical but you get the hell beat out of you and you 'go on vacation'? What the fuck Steve!?'_

And listen to the voice mails.

_'Is this about the kiss?'_ One of Tony's starts out, making Steve's stomach twist into knots. _'Cause if it is then you should come home. I meant what I said about continuing later. You don't have to worry that I'm gonna pretend it didn't happen.'_ There's a long pause where Steve begins to think that the message is over, but Tony continues on, now speaking in a whisper. _'I really want to try this Steve, jus' come home.'_

Steve listens to that one again the morning after he leaves his motel room and it's almost enough make him turn around and go 'home'.

Almost.

Tony is wrong though. He didn't run because he was afraid he would be rejected, that would be easier. No, he's did it because he knows that Tony will want more, and despite his vivid fantasies, he really doesn't want to ruin a good relationship like the one Pepper and Tony share. He's not worth it.

So he keeps riding and checking his phone while steadfastly refusing to think too deeply on his problems.

Unfortunately, four days later, he starts receiving calls and texts from the rest of the team. Most of them would probably sound light and joking to most people, but Steve hears the underlying worry. They may be close as a team, friends even, but they never actually talk about their issues even though they all know that together they play hosts to enough psychological issues to make even the most experienced therapist cry.

Clint's message is the first to contact him, and his message is short. _'Hey Cap, I was told it was in my best interest to call you, so uh- call me back so I can apologise for being dick'._

Just hearing it makes Steve's ears colour with shame and regret. He distracts himself by wondering who made Clint think that he had to apologise when Steve was the one who did wrong. However, that just brings forth images of the entire team discussing what happened and brainstorming ways to get him to come back. God, he hopes they didn't do that.

Bruce is next to call and also leave a message when Steve doesn't pick up. _'Hey Steve. I'm not sure why you left, but being tortured can't be easy on anybody, so if you want to talk just call me. I, um, guess that's it? Call me.'_

Steve is surprised in the best way possible. Bruce doesn't know! He clearly remembers what Clint has said to the rest of the team over the coms, but Bruce was only at the Hydra facility as his alter ego, and since Tony has yet to develop a line of comms that can withstand the transformation, doesn't actually know about the kiss.

Out of everyone on the team Bruce and Pepper seem to be the closest, bonding before the rest of the team even moved into the tower. If anyone was going to tell her it would probably be him.

It's not that he doesn't trust Bruce -he does- he just trusts him to be a good guy, and although that usually means that Bruce is on his side; in this case it doesn't. Rightfully so.

Thor's message follows a few hours later. The first one is only a beep followed by silence then another beep signaling the end of the call, but the next one actually contains words. _'Hello Steven. I am told you're in distress and I wish to offer my aid. If you'd like we could take another trip around the city, it always seems to lift your spirits. I look forward to your call. Farewell.'_

He smiles faintly at the memory. Their first excursion had caused a traffic jam that threatened to shut down the whole of 5th Avenu. After that Tony had shown them how to disguise and better blend in so they could avoid being chased by hoards of screaming 'fans'.

Steve shakes his head to dislodge the memory. Everything always seems to lead back to Tony.

Natasha's message, like her, is curt and to the point but not unkind or harsh. _'You do know that Tony's been tracking you since you left, right? And it's only a matter of time before he loses it comes after you?'_ A long suffering sigh. _'You should also know that only me and Clint know about the kiss, and we're not telling anyone... especially Pepper. Just get back and talk to Tony like an adult.'_

He would be, surprised at Natasha's ability to see his problem so quickly and clearly when Tony didn't even seem to get it, and tell him how to fix it in less than five sentences, but he really not. She has become his closest friend -second to Tony, of course- and has always been sharp enough to see what the rest of the team doesn't.

Furthermore, he knows she's right, he should just talk to Tony and tell him that he's not interested in a relationship. Well, it would be more accurate to say 'lie and say he's not interested in a relationship while secretly wanting nothing more', but that's obvious. He knows he should... but he can't.

If he gets in the same room with the other man he'll end up giving in and just fall into Tony's warm, welcoming arms.

Eventually his inboxes fill up and he deletes all of the messages, except for the ones from Tony which still come in regularly.

He drives two and a half weeks, -two hundred and fifty eight text messages, ninety two voice mails, and eighty seven e-mails- before he decides to go back; debating with himself the entire time on whether or not he should, for once, put his own happiness above that of someone else's.

He has spent his entire life being unselfish; sacrificing himself and his entire world to save people that he didn't know and will never meet. Doesn't he deserve to have something good?

No. Not if it's at the price of a good person happiness... even though he really, really wants to.

So, essentially, he travelled all those miles just to end up no further along than when he first left the Hydra prison. Wonderful.

It takes him less time to drive back since his injuries are healed and he can now move at a normal pace. He finds out that the pace was obviously too quick because the second he gets close enough to New York to see the large large 'A' that hangs proudly on Stark Tower he begins to panic and fidget uneasily on his bike.

He tries his best to avoid all of the places that trigger memories of him and Tony as he passes through the city. A task that's not not only hard, but practically impossible.

Everywhere in New York holds some sort of memory. Like the entrance to the subway; he remembers having to use bribery and force -dragging the genius by the sleeves of his 'disguise hoodie'- just to get Tony down the first flight of stairs. Ethnic restaurants Tony forced him to eat at because his palette was too 'bleh'. A mall they shopped at, well, Steve shopped, Tony just held bags and judged the quality of every purchase, always concluding that the product was too cheap.

The list goes on and on.

He decides to rent a motel in a part of town that neither him nor Tony would ever visit, and plans to lay low for a few day before he tries to figure out what to do. He doesn't look foward to it.

The woman at the front desk of the motel is hidden behind a metal bar and a thick sheet of bullet proof glass, paying him no more attention that is strictly necessary for their interaction.

"How lang ya stayin' fer?" She asks, without looking away from her mini television set, eyes glued to the soap opera unfolding on it.

The strange accent and blatant rudeness throws him off, and Steve just stand there for a moment, stunned.

Apparently it's too long of a pause because the woman turns from her television set and waves a gun in front of him. "You gonna get a room, er 'm I gonna 'ave to get the cops to move yer dead body?" she asks, sounding almost bored as she makes the threat.

Steve's eyes go wide. "Oh- I- no ma'am," he stutters hurriedly, "I just need a room for a few days. Please."

There is a long pause. After a while Steve begins to squirm under her scrutinizing gaze until she finally puts down the gun with a heavy sigh. "Fine, three hundred and you can have the room for a week."

Steve blinks dumbly at the sudden attitude and accent change, but quickly takes out the money and hands it over when he see her expression becomes annoyed as she once again reaches for the gun.

The woman slides the keys through the slit in the glass and bars then turns back around without another glance in his direction.

Steve takes the keys with a muttered thanks before making a hasty retreat.

The room is small, but surprisingly liveable. The once green walls are now a faded puke colour, and the carpet is sticky in places, but the bed is clean and so is the bathroom. Steve has lived in much worse.

His eyes close almost the second his head hits the fluffy white pillow and don't open until eleven forty two -according to the bedside table clock in front of him- the next day.


End file.
